


you'll be playing on my mind

by onefootonego (startingXI)



Category: Terminator (Movies), Terminator: Dark Fate
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, discussion of loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 15:21:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21163808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startingXI/pseuds/onefootonego
Summary: you’re alert, even now, for an incoming threat. you know the terminator will be searching and scanning and using every resource at its disposal to ensure the completion of its mission. there’s a painful twist in your stomach at the thought of dani dead, dani bleeding, dani –you glance over at her.[or: a conversation happens on the train]





	you'll be playing on my mind

you’re sitting on the edge of a train car roof watching a world you’ve never known slide past. to those around you the passing night is nothing more than a blur of shadows and starlight. many are asleep, curled against one another for some semblance of warmth. over the rumble of the train along its tracks conversations are impossible to follow, spanish mumbled softly from one to another in the darkness. the air is cool against your skin, the metal beneath your splayed fingers seeps warmth, leaving you on the edge of cold but the sensation is refreshing after the heat of the day. 

you’re alert, even now, for an incoming threat. you know the terminator will be searching and scanning and using every resource at its disposal to ensure the completion of its mission. there’s a painful twist in your stomach at the thought of dani dead, dani bleeding, dani – 

you glance over at her. 

she’s curled in on herself, breathing not rhythmic enough to be asleep and – 

“you’re staring.” she says, and the laugh bubbling up your throat catches you by surprise 

“sorry.” you say, looking away, back to the distant horizon. 

you hear dani move, hear the slide of her shoes against the metal roof and the drag of her skin against the same surface as she sits by your side. 

“you should sleep.” you tell her, she needs rest, she needs her strength. 

“i don’t want to.” dani replies and there’s a hollow sadness in her voice that you recognise from a distant future. 

her pain makes your heart ache. 

she continues “i see his face.” dani says into the night, with a tremble lilting her words “my brother. i can see,” she stops, swallows hard “i didn’t get a chance to tell him,” dani takes a deep, rattling breath and holds it. 

you hear the words struggling to escape and you know this is not the place to free them. this is not the place for dani to grieve – but you also know that in the coming days she will not have a chance. you know that the coming days will give her peace in the form in denial, or maybe it’s something else – 

so consumed will dani be with survival, with not getting killed, that the thought of the deaths she’s left behind will be but memories haunting the few quiet moments. 

“he knew.” you say quietly “he knew.” 

dani’s eyes glitter with tears and her cheeks are wet as she drags the back of her hand across them roughly. she exhales, she looks over at you “is it true, what sarah said?” she asks “that i’m going to give birth to…” she trails off, unable to even finish the sentence. 

you don’t blame her. 

seconds pass before you answer, you don’t know how much to tell or how little. she deserves to know the truth, maybe not all the truth, but parts of it. she deserves – 

“no.” you say, looking over at her “it’s not true. what she said.” 

“oh.” dani says, and there’s something like relief in her voice “why then,” she asks, the inevitable follow up to your answer “why me? what did i do?” 

“you,” the words start to come and then you stop, you keep your gaze fixed on distant stars “you do good.” you say quietly “for the world.” 

_for me._

you do not say those two simple words, not yet. the truth of who dani is to you is not to be shared now, not on the roof of a travelling train. maybe not ever, not in this timeline. 

“can’t you tell me more?” dani asks as the breeze picks up. 

“not right now.” you say quietly “not yet.” 

“don’t i deserve to know?” dani presses, her words muted but filled with sorrow, with loss “don’t i deserve to know why my family is dead?” she asks, and you see goose bumps rise along the exposed skin of her arm 

you catch the shiver she tries to mask, but the wind is cool up here and you’re shrugging out of the thin jacket you’re wearing “here,” you say, placing it over dani’s shoulder “and,” you sigh, watching as dani accepts the layer without protest, slipping her arms into the sleeves “you do deserve to know.” 

“but?” 

“but not here. not right now.” 

“what if we don’t get another chance?” 

_what if we get killed?_ is the question dani asks without so many words and that reality is almost too painful to consider. 

“we’ll get another chance.” you say. 

“what if we don’t?” dani presses.

you look over at her, fierce and you see so much of the future in her already. you look away “we will.” you say, then “you need to rest.” 

dani exhales and the urgency in her voice of moments before is gone, her words are far thicker with emotions now “i keep seeing his face, i keep feeling his blood on my hands.” 

there is no question as to who /he/ is. 

“it gets easier.” you say “with time.” and then “it gets harder too.” 

“harder?” 

“memories fade.” you say “the more you try to hold on to them the faster they seem to go.” 

“your father?” 

“i don’t remember the colour of his eyes.” you say, pressing the tips of your fingers into the metal hard enough to dent “it seems so inconsequential, but,” you shake you head “the memories fade, and so does the pain.” 

“i don’t want to forget.” 

“you won’t, not entirely. you’ll remember them, their names, how much you loved them. but you’ll forget the sound of their laugh, or the songs they would sing when you couldn’t sleep.” you trail off, gripping so hard at the roof that you threaten to pierce through the thin covering. 

dani’s hand slips across yours “i’m sorry.” she says softly. 

you look over at her. you remind yourself of the future, of all the things she’s yet to do and all the lives she’s yet to save. you flip your hand, so you’re palm to palm with dani’s. you study her face and can all but see her exhaustion. it’s seeping into the curl of her shoulders and the sag of her head. you let out a breath “thank you.” you say softly, lacing your fingers with hers for a moment. 

dani doesn’t seem to mind.

**Author's Note:**

> i just saw the movie and have _a lot_ of thoughts about it all. for the moment i'm working within the bounds of canon compliance. who knows where i will end up for different fics.
> 
> feel free to give me a shout over on tumblr at fourbeit. 
> 
> story title taken from - find a place by iko


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